May 13, 2013

• Today is my second day on new medication for depression. I caved and called my doctor to get an appointment. I had to wait a week but by the time my appointment came around I was ready to go in. The weekend before this last one was easily the lowest I’ve been in a long time. I would wake up and before I was even fully awake I was crying, and not my usual silent sobs, I’m a silent cryer. Not last week though. Last week was the full blown, agonizing wails, screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to end the pain. Someone. Anyone.
  When I went in to see my doc it only took him just a couple of minutes to see how quickly I had gone down hill. I was just in to see him not that long ago, maybe a month or so. “You’re not doing well,” he said. “I can tell that just by the fact you’re in here at all. You’re strong and you like to take care of things yourself.”
  I guess it pays going to see the same doc for 20 years, at least he was paying attention. Seems like no one else has been.

  Yesterday, was my first day on the new medication. They said take it early in the morning because it tends to make people stay awake. I woke up and ate and took the meds and promptly passed out for about 5 hours on the couch. I woke up and everything was silent. It’s never silent in my head, but now it is. I don’t know whether or not that’s a good or bad thing. For the first time in my entire life I felt bored. I have no one else to talk to, I have no way to keep myself occupied anymore. If I wasn’t feeling totally crazy before, I do now. Now that it’s silent. Some would think that this is a nice reprieve. Sure, some of the not-so-great voices are gone, but so are the ones that kept me company. That kept me going. That told me to stop when I didn’t want to. A part of me is afraid of what might happen now that they are gone. I don’t have anyone to argue with me when I want to make stupid choices.

  I don’t feel like myself. Saturday was a good day, without the need for medication. I was myself, and I had a good day. Now, I’m not so sure who I am. I told my partner I feel like I need a new name already because I just don’t feel like “Meg” anymore. It’s disconcerting. To top it off, both my partner and my paramour had a bad day yesterday. Both of them asked me to keep them company for a while to help ward off the bad feels. It was just so weird and unnatural feeling. Don’t be mistaken, I was glad that I had the opportunity to return the favor to both of them. They’ve been there for me countless times, especially in the past few weeks/months. But it felt so off to try to be there for the people I love and care about when I was in the middle of an identity crisis. How was *I* supposed to be there for them when *I* have gone AWOL? But thankfully, it appeared the husk of my former self was all that was needed to help alleviate their stresses for a few moments. At least I am still useful I suppose. My girl called me last night, I hadn’t talked to her in a long time, too long. She had talked to my paramour and he told her that I was struggling with adjusting to this new… whatever this is. She was kind and reassuring and said that she felt the same when she started her meds (which is basically the same as mine). She said with time the other ones will come back and my head won’t be so lonely, that’s what happened with her. I still can’t help but imagine dozens of little me’s bound and gagged in a closet labeled Celexa.

  The point of all this? I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything anymore. I don’t even know if I care. I may not be around much, or I may be around a lot more. I simply don’t know anymore. Everything feels so foreign and boring. So apologies if I disappear, and apologies if it gets to the point where people wish I would disappear.

  Apologies all the way around.

  • 10:36 am
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